How to embark the HES Katariah
by Zeschi das Mondkalb
Summary: Hi folks! I wrote another little Skyrim fun-story. This one-shot contains some spoilers for the Dark-Brotherhood-questline. So don't read if you don't like. Snotur Frostbite, the nasty Nord vampire, has a little problem on his way to his grace, Titus Mede II. :-) Please read and review. Other details inside.


Author's notes:

Hi folks! I decided to pester you with another story. And I'll continue to pester you, until I get _some_ reviews for my stories (wave with the proverbial fence pole). I also changed my avatar to something less grisly. Now it's just my cheese-foot in the camera. Again this is a Skyrim one-shot fan fiction. It contains spoilers for the Dark Brotherhood questline, so don't read if you still want to revel in your anticipation. Again, I hereby recognize TES V: Skyrim as property of Bethesda Software. Have fun.

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How to embark the HES Katariah

It was to be a glorious day in the life of Snotur Frostbite. The burly and recently eerie Nord had worked very hard in the ranks of the Dark Brotherhood. At one point, he'd been so busy that he neglected a serious case of sanguine vampiris. And on the third day he woke up _not_ feeling like his former self anymore.

But *shrug* oh well… There were worse things like suddenly being allergic to sunlight or lusting for blood. For example roaming all over Skyrim to bully and interrogate cooks, kill other cooks and dump them in a lake… Not to mention the pillage of the Falkreath sanctuary and slaughter to his once happy family of looney assassins. Dead! They were almost all dead: Festus Krex the old destruction mage, Veezara the Shadowscale, Arnbjorn the werewolf, Astrid leader of the family, Gabriella the Dunmer… Well Cicero the fool of hearts wasn't the fault of Penintus Oculatus. Snotur had put down _that_ special case by himself. And man, he _had_ enjoyed it!

But the big contract was still valid after so many mistakes and hardships. Kill the emperor, his grace Titus Mede the second of his name, protector of Tamriel, dragon by title, jadda, jadda, jadda… From Whiterun, where he had been briefed by Motierre, Snotur jumped on Shadowmane's back and travelled the direct route to Solitude. He rode to the Labyrinthion pass, hacked his way through a small tribe of ice-trolls, crossed the swamps of Hjaalmarch and swam over the Karthfjord.

There, Snotur paused to place a convenient and oh-so-satisfying arrow in the back of the elder Maro. Said elder Maro moaned (as well as you _can_ moan with a pierced lung) and fell face-first on the planks of the harbour quay. Had anyone seen him? No? All the better. Now how to find that dratted vessel? His emperor's ship Katariah to be exact. Where was it? Aaah, anchored near the Solitude lighthouse. So Snotur Frostbite had to swim again. Oh what a nice galleon! The HES Katariah was floating in deep water. Several banners hung from its (or her?) sides. At the prow, it was decorated with a carved woman and at the rear a flashy fishtail-wing-something. Which was all very nice, buuuut… "How the heck do I go aboard?" Snotur wondered. There was no quay anywhere near the ship, not to mention a gangway. Gah, how frustrating! So Snotur swam round and round the HES Katariah. He tried to grab hold of the banners but he just couldn't propel his bulk out of the water. "Oh I should change into a dolphin. Then I could just _jump_ on the deck. But I can't change into a dolphin and that's the end of it."

He started another round of circling the ship like a shark. But suddenly, the Nightmother took pity of his desperate tries. She rolled her eyes which was only visible in the void. And then she talked directly into the head of Snotur Frostbite. That spooky, airy, wispy, ancient voice sounded. "Err listener, you _do_ realize there's such a thing as anchor chains? Don't you?"

And Snotur turned tomato scarlet in embarrassment, which is quite a feat for a vampire. "My humblest thanks, oh mistress of the void." he ground out. "You're welcome, child of Sithis and Molag Bal." the Nightmother replied in kind.

Once said anchor chain was found, the boarding wasn't a problem any longer. A while later the ship was filled with dead bodies: lots of sailors, the captain, an imperial legate, members of Penintus Oculatus and a certain Titus Mede, the second of his name, dragon by title, jadda, jadda, jadda. And this time, it was the _real_ article, not the decoy doppelganger who had eaten a slightly rotten "magnificent stew". Poor sod, may he rest in peace.


End file.
